


i will follow you into the dark

by leeloo6



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Humanstuck, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-01 15:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leeloo6/pseuds/leeloo6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would’ve been ideal to live alone somewhere in a more retreated neighbourhood where you wouldn’t have to share your living space with people who are so enthusiastic about everything that you sometimes think they’re blind. Maybe it’s a viral disease that students get. You’d really hope you don’t get it too, except hoping sucks and you’d probably be immune to it, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You barely exchange a word with your parents during the five-hour drive to the city, leaving their attempts at conversation go dry. It’s not that you hate them for making you share a room with someone else or anything, you know they can’t afford getting you a single room and you’re not going to unnecessarily be an asshole about it. It’s just that something about this whole thing strikes you as off. 

This time the previous year, you weren’t even considering college as an option. You were mostly busy with persuading yourself not to jump off a building anytime soon, or even worse, enter full catatonia, yet here you are now, stepping outside the car into the chilly October air, infested with the ominous voices of enthusiastic freshmen.

You wince at the sound. Terrible.

It could’ve been worse, you tell yourself. You could’ve found yourself needed to share a room with two or three other people, which you’ve heard was the case with your friend FF. Of course, it would’ve been ideal to live alone somewhere in a more retreated neighbourhood where you wouldn’t have to share your living space with people who are so enthusiastic about everything that you sometimes think they’re blind. Maybe it’s a viral disease that students get. You’d really hope you don’t get it too, except hoping sucks and you’d probably be immune to it, anyway.

The dorm is co-ed, four storeys high. Two for girls, two for boys. After crossing the buzzing hallway with the skill of an obstacle course driver, staring back at anyone giving you weird looks for your mismatched shoes- for some reason, today seemed like a good day for displaying your quirk-, you find yourself unlocking the door for room 202 on the second floor and you snicker at the irony. Your folks just give you weird looks.

There’s no one else in the room, though your roommate’s already been there, leaving his bags on the left-side bed. You guess that settles it, then. You dump your luggage on the remaining bed, looking around- there are two nightstands, two desks, two closets and a fridge. Neat. `Not enough space,’ your dad exclaims, but you hardly care about that. The windows are large, occupying almost half of the outer wall. Good thing that your mom was inspired enough to bring curtains. The room’s okay, you guess. There’s enough space in it to set your computer and your stereo system- even though you know actually using it is just wishful thinking, who knows what shitty music your roommate likes, you’re probably stuck on headphones for the entire year- so that’s good enough for you. 

`Call us, dear,’ your mom says, hugging you. When you pull back, you can see tears in her eyes and you pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. Heh, moms. Your dad gives you a brief hug, saying something highly motivational that you elegantly don’t give a fuck on. It’s not like he’s ever done anything to actually help you in that field, anyway. You feel relieved when they’re gone and you don’t even have the decency to feel guilty about it.

It’s not that you don’t care for them or appreciate what they’re doing for you. You do. They’re going through quite a struggle to be able to sustain you through college. It’s just that most of the time, you’d rather be alone than anything else.

You spend the next hours setting up your computer while blasting some Skinny Puppy in the background because that’s how you feel about the world today, in general lines. It could be worse. You do your best not to think of all the ways in which it could be worse, though, because that’s never a good thing. You’re not buying all the big-changes-trigger-cycling bullshit, you know it doesn’t work that way for you. You roll with change like the waves in a river or something like that, it’s basically a part of you. If you made it through highschool (barely), there’s no way college is going to bring you down.

You’ve fortunately lowered the volume when the door opens and your new roommate steps in, slamming the door behind him. He’s stubby, shorter than you. His frizzy black hair lies in disarray, making him look like he just woke up. The look on his face reminds you of a feral animal and is probably meant to tell everyone to fuck off, but somehow just succeeds in making you want to laugh.

`Why the fuck are your shoes not matching?’ he barks for a hello. You retract that. There was no way you wouldn’t hear this guy’s voice even over eighty decibels of raw sound.

`None of your business, asshole,’ you snap back, already anticipating the levels of unpleasant that your cohabitation will sprout. Great. From all the terrible versions that reality could bring into existence, you’re stuck with a shouting asshole who can’t mind his own business.

`Yeah, okay, whatever. I’m Karkat,’ he says, lowering his voice and offering to shake your hand. You briefly note that he still sounds like he wants to bite you even when he’s not shouting anymore.

`Sollux,’ you reply. `So, what’s your major?’ God, do you feel sociable right now. FF would be so proud.

`Computer science. What’s yours?’ Oh, he actually seems reserved now, like communicating with people is a thing that he’s new to. It’s actually kind of cute.

`Same,’ you answer. 

`That’s just great, what better way to account for diversity than get two people from the same major in the same room, congrats student dorms, you win the prize for the most inapt organizers of the fucking year,’ he rants and you wonder what’s the probability that someone dropped him headfirst into something when he was a kid, because really, what is his problem?

`Well if you have a fucking problem you can just fill a request and move out, I wouldn’t have any problem with that,’ you bite back. He’s kind of starting to annoy you.

`Maybe I will!’ he shouts, then takes a deep breath. `No. Look, I didn’t mean it that way, okay? The only thing that I wanted was a single room, but apparently that option is ruled out in every possible universe, as for my usual fan-fucking-tastic luck.’

`You tell me,’ you mumble. You guess you can empathize with that, even if you’re not losing your shit about it as much as he is.

You’re done settling in, so you make yourself comfortable at your desk and go for a game of League of Legends with your online buddies. There’s Dave who keeps insisting he’s only playing ironically since you got him into the game, Tavros who’s so enthusiastic about it that it makes you want to laugh at him and pat him on the back at the same time, and Terezi who always makes you guys laugh with her dramatic interventions. You guess she’s mostly into it because she loves to roleplay. You’ve caught wind that she’s doing it in real life, too. Knowing her, it’s a possibility that you wouldn’t completely rule out.

You’re a few minutes into the game session when you hear grumbling and muffled swearing behind you. Judging by the sound of it, Karkat is probably trying to set up his computer. You manage to ignore him for a good period of time, turning up the volume in your headphones, but it doesn’t stop and you’re pretty sure you hear him kicking the central unit at some point.

`Hey, don’t even think of asking for my help, since I obviously know jack shit about computers. You can keep doing your thing while I watch you suffer,’ you say, doing exactly that.

`Thanks for your help, asshole. I’d repay you in kind but I’m all out of fuck you’s for the moment. Haha, just joking,’ he replies, giving you the finger while he’s struggling with some tangled wires. He’s crouched on the floor in a complete mess of them. You sigh and sit up, crouching beside him. You patiently plug the wires he’s missed in their right port while he watches in disbelief, eyebrows furrowed. Honestly, what is he doing at comp sci if he doesn’t even know how to set up his own pc? Damn you if you’re gonna babysit him with his school assignments anytime soon.

`You didn’t turn on the safety switch, that’s why you couldn’t start it, ’ you explain. `New unit?’

`Yeah,’ he mumbles. `My dad needed the old one at home.’ So he’s not a rich kid- you could kind of tell from his clothes. Second-quality fabric, but not cheap. Medium class, like you. Your stand on this could be described as very okay, since you hardly wanted a snob for a roommate.

`I hope you have an operating system installed,’ you try, already knowing the answer.

`Not really. But I have the CD somewhere around here,’ he replies, fumbling through his luggage.

`I hope you know how to install it,’ you continue, letting disbelief slip into your voice.

`Of course I know, when do you think I was fucking born, yesterday, ’ he replies, but his voice is unsure and oh my god you really are going to have to do this.

After watching him struggle with the installation from the corner of your eye for a few minutes, you sit up, roll your eyes and gesture him to pass you his seat. He mumbles, but to your surprise, he doesn’t refuse. You spend the next hour setting up his Linux while doing your best to ignore him, since `ashamed of lack of computer skills` and `too much of an idiot to show it other way than passively-aggressively jabbing at the douche who’s helping you’ is not the happiest combo you’ve encountered. At least he thanks you at the end, then you’re finally free to return to your long-forsaken game.

You spend the whole afternoon playing and being unbearably good at it. Each time you turn from the computer to get something to eat or go to the bathroom, you find yourself slightly disoriented by your surroundings. Somehow, inertia makes you expect you’re still in your old room. On the other side, this is exactly how comfortable you’ve made yourself already. As long as you have your pc with you, there’s not much else you need.

Karkat spends all his time on the computer too, doing god-knows-what and watching a movie and oh god, is that 50 First Dates? You think you’re gonna throw up.

When you go to the kitchen to make a capuccino- there’s one kitchen per floor, something tells you that yours isn’t going to be too frequented- the hallway’s empty and there isn’t much noise coming through, except for reasonably loud music from a couple of rooms and inane laughter from a few others. You deem this situation satisfactory enough, especially since none of the noise is loud enough to reach your own room.

Hey, maybe college life in dorms isn’t as bad as they say. Maybe you’re actually going to enjoy some peace and quiet-

You retract that. There’s a loud group of guys in the kitchen, spread around the table and on the window sill- god, on the window sill-, apparently competing in who’s saying the most idiotic joke. One of them is picking on a nerdy guy who’s making himself some fries and who seems equally pissed off and terrified, while at the other stove, a girl in a long grey skirt is trying to start the fire using matches and keeps failing. You figure that she doesn’t know about automatic stoves? Before you can go and assist her like a kind dorm-colleague-something, another guy is approaching her. 

`What planet do you come from, babe? Don’t they have stoves there?’ he smirks, leaning in towards her. You can’t believe that he actually pulled out a line like that. You had enough faith in humanity to still believe that this is a thing that people don’t say in real life. 

`What’re you doing here anyway,’ the other guy jumps in, leaving the nerdy guy alone. `Don’t you have a kitchen on your floor? Or maybe you came here on purpose?’ He raises an eyebrow and you can tell that the girl isn’t even looking at him. You make a mental note to buy yourself a water boiler to avoid any kitchen drama in the future as you turn on the stove for her, displaying the friendliest smile that you’re capable of.

`Hey, sorry I left you hanging,’ you tell her. She turns to you with a surprised look on her face- god, her eyes are huge- but she catches on quite fast, much to her credit.

`It’s okay,’ she replies with an almost unnoticeable smile and you can see the idiots retreating. It’s either that you’re an imposing presence or that they just like to pick on lonely birds, but not admitting you already know the answer to that mystery would be blatant self-deception. 

You take in her appearance from the corner of your eye while you’re waiting for the water to boil. She’s shorter than you- who are you kidding, basically everyone is- but taller than Karkat. Her clothes- a simple black top and long skirt- bring out her curvy appearance quite nicely, and her long, black hair falls in some kind of systematic disarray, framing her sharp features in a way that’s equally appealing and intimidating. 

You know you should probably talk to her, but you have no idea what to say and you’re not really in the mood for talking, anyway. She doesn’t look at you, focusing on her cooking- is that seafood?- with a quiet determination. Something strikes you as off about her, but you’re not quite sure what. Maybe the way she keeps her eyes fixed on whatever holds her attention at that moment, or the way she moves like she’s in slow-motion, functioning on a different frequency. 

`Thank you,’ she tells you when you’re about to pick up your teapot and leave. Her voice is a compelling monotone, another thing that makes her seem alien.

`It’s okay. If you ever need anything, I’m in room 202,’ you say and oh god you have absolutely no idea what compelled you to blurt that out, but there, you’ve done it, so you try an unsure smile while you leave. She just watches you with an unreadable expression.

Smooth. Really smooth.

You curse yourself for being a socially inapt idiot while you’re on your way to your room, but there’s nothing new on that front, so you might as well leave it be. At least you saved her from those assholes. Saved her, ha- she would’ve done quite well by herself, anyway, but you find yourself thinking of her strange, distant eyes and unearthly appearance and you’re not blind enough to admit that you’d love to see her again. And maybe this time, actually hold a normal conversation for more than two seconds.

You and your team kick everyone’s ass in a couple more games, so at the end of it, you’re free to say this has been a productive day. You go to sleep with your level of enthusiasm for the next day’s grand year opening nearing zero (on a negative scale, which is actually good, since it means that you’re not all freaked out about anything). All things considered, you guess it could’ve turned out much worse.


	2. Chapter 2

You go through the opening ceremony searching for new music releases on your phone with an equally distracted Karkat on your side while your future teachers take turns in the front of the ceremony hall to say their stiff welcomes. By the looks on everybody’s faces, they’re as interested as you are.

`Well, this was a complete waste of everyone’s time,’ Karkat concludes dramatically as you’re moving out with the crowd, waiting to exit the amphitheatre. A few people give him funny looks and you see him trying to suppress the ghost of a smile. You think that’s pretty cute; before you can stop yourself, you smile too- no, you smirk, that was definitely a smirk that happened there- but you promptly return to your usual deadpan when he turns to speak to you.

`So are we going to the cafeteria or what,’ he says. Asks. Whatever, it’s not like he uses any verbal marks of punctuation for his ever-present biting tone.

`Sure,’ you say. You guess that’s going to be the rule from now on, since you’re not planning to take up cooking anytime too soon. As you enter the large hallroom, flooded with sunlight coming through the wide windows, you can’t help but feel grateful that you have Karkat by your side. You’re far past the point when being alone feels awkward, but it always gives you an edge that isn’t there when you’re in company. You hadn’t realized it until Fef had pointed it out to you: there’s more effort to put in when you walk a crowded room on your own than when someone’s there to dissipate your individuality.

So you feel kind of comfortable sitting with him during lunch, not bothering much with small talk as you gulp down your chicken and fries. It’s not hard for you to drown out the noise of the room while sinking in your own thoughts, but Karkat keeps making annoyed remarks at the obnoxious people passing you by. You sympathize more than you let on. When two ditzy girls sit at your table, the sounds they make sounding like shrieks more than genuine laughter, he rolls his eyes and starts eating faster. You huff, amused. His constant irritation is kind of entertaining to watch, if you don’t think much about the strain it must put on him, and if you’re patient enough to put up with it. You don’t know how patient you are.

You’re still finished before he is, so you pass time looking around idly. You see the girl from yesterday sitting at a far table in the corner of the room, talking to a boy in a wheelchair. You’re pleased to see that she looks happy today and only slightly surprised that you care. She searches through her bag and pulls out a pair of chopsticks, eating what’s probably rice in small gulps while she continues talking to the boy in front of her. You find that… really adorable. You avert your gaze before someone has the chance to notice, but Karkat is already looking over his shoulder to see the object of your attention. He gives you a wry smile.

`Interested?’

`I don’t even know her,’ you huff. `Are we leaving or not?’

`Yeah, come on.’ You empty your trays and head for the exit. `We were in the same class in middle school,’ he says when you’re outside.

`Yeah?’ you ask, your curiosity piqued. `How is she?’

`I might as well tell you, since you’re obviously not into her at all,’ he says mockingly.

`Jesus, stop acting like a thirteen-year-old and answer my question,’ you roll your eyes.

`Wow, fuck you,’ he huffs.

`Dumbwit.’

`Who’s the passive-aggressive teen now, ‘cause it’s definitely not me anymore,’ he replies on a warning tone.

`Oh, it definitely is you,’ you reply and you can’t tell if you’re annoyed or enjoying this incapacitated exchange of lousy replies. Probably both. It’s been a while since you could go around being stupid with someone; the fact that you’ve just met Karkat and that he knows nothing of how fucked you are might play a part in the lightness of your interactions. Yeah, he’s probably going to be fed up with you when you’ll stop being in the mood to pretend you’re a normal human being. It’s happened before. The thought chips away some of the good disposition you’d previously found yourself in. Well, fuck.

`Anyway. Her name’s Aradia and she was one of the smartest in our class. People used to pick on her ‘cause she’s poor, but that never seemed to bother her. We were both in this group, the class nerds who had a thousand times more fun than those other idiots.’ He smiles wistfully. His smile has hints of dark and bitter and it suits him really well . `We used to play games online and meet up in the evening at Gamzee’s house- a friend of mine, we’re still good pals- to play board games and stuff. She was fun, the kind of person you have a hard time not liking.’

`And then?’ you ask. `You talk as if she died in the meanwhile.’

`That’s a way of putting it. She distanced herself from pretty much everyone in the last year. She kept playing online with us, though, and kept in touch on pesterchum, but she seemed kind of absent in real life. She was rarely happy anymore.’

`Did anyone find out what’d happened to her?’

`We tried asking, but she kept saying she’s okay, so… I guess we just gave up after a while. We were kids, we knew jack shit about life,’ he rushes to add when he notices your raised eyebrow. `You know how it works. If someone stops being fun, you assume there’s nothing there to make an effort for anymore.’

`Yeah,’ you say bitterly. You’ve had plenty of experience with that.

`We went to different highschools, so I didn’t see much of her anymore. She drifted away from our old friends, too, and when I saw her around town she was usually on her own.’

`She seemed happy today,’ you notice absently.

`Yeah. Maybe she’s making friends again, who knows.’

You walk the rest of the road talking about your school schedule and laugh-complaining about what idiots you’ve spotted among your colleagues in the morning, including yourselves. You can’t help but feel bitter, though, at the reminder that people are so ignorant to the problems of others. You didn’t expect Karkat to be any different- hardly anyone is-, but the fact that he seemed to treat Aradia’s story with such detachment did nothing but remind you of this fact. It’s not his fault, really. You’re the only one to blame for still letting these things get to you. 

You wonder what had made her change. You remember your own highschool years, when the only one who didn’t consider you enough of a freak to get close to you was Fef, and she wasn’t even in your school. You’d never wish that on anyone, especially on someone who seemed as fragile as Aradia.

You repeat her name in your mind, trying different accents. Aradia. It sounds exotic, like she was named after someone in a medieval fantasy game. You think it suits her well.

The rest of the day passes as you keep coding a virus you’d started working on before you moved out. Nothing too complicated, but you’ve never done this one before, so it takes enough time. 

You see Karkat reflected in the screen, hovering behind you from time to time; he blinks at an idle rate and you’re not sure if he’s making a show of his bafflement or if he really is as bad with computers as yesterday had proved. He doesn’t hang around in an annoying manner for much, though, before he goes back to his own pc, so you say nothing about it. Maybe someday, you’ll feel like explaining him the basics.

Yeah. As if that day would ever come, you snicker to yourself.

`Care for a smoke?’ you ask towards the evening, when your ass is starting to hurt from keeping the same position in your chair. You kind of hope he doesn’t, you like smoking alone.

`Do I look like the kind of guy who not only disguises slow, torturous death into a daily ritual, but also degrades himself enough to actually enjoy it? Fuck you, I won’t be your suicide buddy tonight,’ he barks.

`Funny, ‘cause you’d think you’re asking for it with the way your mouth never stops spilling useless, patronizing garbage,’ you say as you go out the door. `But it’s all good, KK, I know you’re only doing it to hide the deepest insecurities the world’s ever had the pity to witness.’

`Ha ha,’ he shouts after you, voice angrier than before. `Very funny, Captor, but I could only dream of reaching the heights of self-doubt that you’re capable of. Soon enough, I’ll have to pick up your sorry ass from the floor, where you’ll be melting in a puddle of self-loathing and dismay. And guess what, fuck you, I won’t!’ Even though he has no idea about how right he is, you still smile as you head for the balcony at the end of the hallway, pretty satisfied with yourself. Actually, you’re pretty satisfied with Karkat, too. You’re not used to trading mock-insults in other mediums than online, so this feels… unusually real. You shake your head as you light up a cigarette, telling yourself to snap out of it. You’re acting like a recluse teenager who’s on cloud nine because they’re finally exchanging words with an actual living being.

The thing is, that’s exactly how you feel right now. Minus the unnecessary drama.

You inhale slowly, letting the cold October air fill your lungs along with the welcomed bitterness. You don’t smoke much outside of your depressive or manic episodes, you’ve made a resolution of quitting as soon as you’re out of the bad places and it’s fairly easy. Your body doesn’t ask for nicotine when your mind can get a grip on itself. It’s a thing that you’ve stopped questioning a while ago and so you only smoke occasionally, when the mood strikes you.

It’s kind of a privilege to have moods outside of the ones that your genes dictate you- well, if you choose to believe that determinism is just a pile of bullshit and you actually get to choose your emotions. You feel a strange sense of contentment washing over you. Your folks had money to pay for college, your roommate isn’t an unbearable asshole- he is different levels of those two attributes, but not enough to make a disaster if you put them together-, your programming skills still suck but at least they’re better than they were this time last year, you haven’t had an episode for three months and everything is pretty much acceptable. You’re tempted to think that stuff might turn out okay for a while.

Then it strikes you that you haven’t even begun the university year and you have no idea what it has in store for you. So much for ill-advised serenity; it wouldn’t have lasted much anyway, your moods are dispositions more than stable feelings even when you’re not having an episode. Especially when you’re not having an episode. 

You think too much.

The balcony faces most of the city, a wide expanse of stone and light in the late sunset. Your dorm is situated on a hill, so the town is pretty much at your feet from this point. Different from the plains where your hometown’s situated, brighter and more alive than the tedious rows of small buildings where you grew up. It’s kind of nice. Still not having finished your cigar, you climb one more storey on the outer stairs of the building, hoping for an even better view.

There, you see Aradia mirroring your position from just a few moments before, leaning on the railing and looking in the distance while she absently pulls from a cigar. There are some people who look terribly elegant with a cigar, as if they were born with it. You’re not surprised to find out that she isn’t one of them. There isn’t anything haughty about the way she holds herself, nothing that betrays the feigned apathy that smokers sometimes display and that you, too, like to toy with sometimes. She doesn’t look like a natural either, but maybe that’s just because it isn’t something you would’ve expected from her.

`Hello,’ she says, turning to you with a small smile.

`Hey,’ you reply, joining her. You are probably more startled than you seem. `The view really is nicer from up here.’ Oh. That was a stupid thing to say. You cringe inwardly at your lack of conversational resourcefulness. Really, that sounded so pathetic.

`We could go higher,’ she says, making a small head motion towards the sky. You’re confused for a second, before you realize she means the fourth floor. 

`Oh, you mean…’

`Yes. Sorry,’ she laughs and her whole face lightens up, crinkles in the corners of her smiling eyes. She’s really pretty when she smiles, it seems, aside from being pretty every other time. 

`Sure, why not,’ you reply and you both climb the stairs to the next floor. 

You watch in silence, tracing the crimson line of the last sun on the horizon, unsure of what you should say or if you should say anything at all. 

`Thanks for yesterday,’ she says tentatively, just when you were about to make an inane remark about the weather. 

`No problem. You didn’t seem like you needed it, anyway,’ you remark, hoping that it sounds like the compliment that you mean. It probably does, because she answers with a smile.

`I’m used to ignoring them, though maybe that only works because it’s never been too bad. I’ve never actually been bullied, thank God.’

`Me neither. I haven’t been around enough for them to realize that I exist, I guess,’ you answer, instantly realizing that you’ve said too much. 

`Oh?’ She turns to you, widening her eyes. 

`Whatever, pretend I haven’t said that,’ you shake your head, adding, ‘It’s not a fun story to listen to’ when she furrows her brows slightly.

`I don’t really like to listen to fun stories,’ she says, ‘so maybe I’d love to hear yours.’

You mentally scold yourself for being an idiot. You have no problem avoiding to talk about your brain with most people, but when you meet someone who could actually matter, you hijack your first real conversation by making a cryptic statement that could pretty much be interpreted as a call for pity. You cannot believe how pathetic you are, or how sweet she is when she smiles while saying creepy things.

`It’s nothing, really,’ you insist. Apparently, your self-preservation instinct beats the fear of hurting her. To your surprise, though, she doesn’t look hurt, only resilient.

`Okay then,’ she says and even though she’s smiling, you still perceive the following silence as an awkward one.

‘You don’t like fun stories,’ you repeat.

`Well, not the ones that most people would like, I guess. I like unusual stories with many details. It’s fun to try to figure out what they mean.’

`So you’re a psychology major, then,’ you try. 

`Archaeology,’ Aradia laughs, ‘but I’m flattered you’d think that.’

`One of my old classmates is studying to become a therapist. She smiled like she knew everything and pissed people off by trying to figure out what went wrong in their heads. I’ve always liked her.’ Did you just make an indirect compliment? You hate to admit it, but that was pretty smooth, coming from you. Either that, or completely opaque. You try not to sabotage yourself through misplaced self-satisfaction.

`She sounds like an interesting person. Were you two together?’

`No, it was nothing like that’ you reply, taken aback. `We just talked sometimes. She was one of the few in our class that I could get along with.’

`So you were around enough time to make friends, but not long enough to let the bullies spot you?’ You swear that the way she’s smiling right now, she looks like she stole her expression directly from Rose. It’s really endearing.

`I guess you could say I spent half of the time I was supposed to spend at school actually going to courses and the other half staying home, so I wasn’t much of a local. People made friends and enemies and I just dropped by from time to time.’ So I ended up being left out. You’re grateful to yourself for not blurting that last sentence out, and you also hope she doesn’t think you’re a loser. Even though you totally are. 

Her smile is a bit sadder now, like she understands. She probably does.

`Anyway, Archaeology’s a pretty exotic choice,’ you point out.

`That’s what everyone in my family said,’ she smiles. `But I suppose it was mostly because they wanted to keep me home and going to a local college instead of moving out here. They don’t have Archeology back in my city,’ she explains. 

`That’s how most parents are, but they’ll get used to it,’ you say. `I could barely get mom off of me before they had to leave back home yesterday.’

You don’t say this on a condescending tone, just slightly amused, but her expression still saddens. Okay, you said something wrong. Did you say something wrong? Fuck. What was it?

`Is your hometown far? I mean, do you miss your parents already?’ Shitshitshit-

`I only have my sister,’ she says. `And a hoard of uncles and aunts on my back, but Damara’s always been standing up to them.’

`Oh. You mean…’ Okay, you’ve really screwed it up. You are officially fucked. Good job, moron, not thinking that maybe for once not everybody in the fucking world has the same experiences as you. Or as everybody else, for that matter. Okay, maybe it’s not entirely your fault, except that it completely is. You look at her, expecting resentment, but you only see the slight sadness from before. Somehow, she still manages to look peaceful as she takes in a last smoke before her cigar burns out.

`They died in a car accident a few years ago. I survived.’

`Jesus, I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot,’ you say, burying your face in your hand. `It must be hard for you, listening to people constantly talk about it and knowing that you’re different. Not that you should feel like that bothers you, if it doesn’t. Just… yeah, I’m really sorry.’

`Hey, calm down,’ she says, removing your hand from where they’re hiding your face. `And be careful not to burn yourself with that,’ she points to the cigar precariously hanging from your loose fingers. `It’s good, I’m okay with it now. I should apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable situation. I’m sorry.’ She’s still smiling.

`Oh, shut up with that. I know how it is to avoid talking about yourself just to avoid making people uncomfortable and it sucks. You… you can talk to me about it anytime. If you feel like it, I mean.’ Are you pushing things too far? You’ve only just met, after all.

`Thank you,’ she says. The warm sensation of her hand touching yours still lingers, in a way that you find equally comforting and extremely stupid. Because that’s what it’s making you right now. `You haven’t told me anything about yourself yet, though.’

`There’s nothing much to tell,’ you shrug. `I’m at computer science and my roommate is a jackass.’

`Karkat? He’s really nice once you get to know him,’ she laughs.

Oh, right. Somehow, you completely forgot that they were in middle school together. Through a beam of white, heavenly light, it dawns on you that mentioning that to her wouldn’t be the best idea right now. She must’ve guessed that you two talked about her, anyway, and also, how did she know he was your roommate? Has she been following you around? That perspective makes you feel more flattered than creeped out.

`Yeah, well, I’m still waiting,’ you laugh back, playing along. `But it could’ve been much worse. Student dorms are a tricky thing.’

What you actually meant to say is ‘a thing that should have never been sprung into existence, saving the lives of millions of quiet-seeking students’. Yeah, that’s more like it.  
She seems to have gotten the hang of it, anyway.

`I know what you mean,’ she nods. `My roommate is a pain in the ass, and while Karkat is a genuinely nice guy at the core, I’m not sure if there’s anything more to her than what she shows.’

`Some people are like that,’ you say. `I guess you just have to spend as much time as possible outside of that room.’

`I am,’ she beams. `I’m making the best of the nice weather while it still lasts. I’m planning to climb a nearby mountain this weekend- I think I can’t spot it right now, but it’s somewhere in that direction,’ she points west of the city. She looks really excited. You’re not too enthusiastic about mountains yourself, but hell, she’s studying something that, in your mind, equals treasure-hunting and digging for ancient relics and mountains do seem to have a pretty important role in that. 

`So, is that a thing you do in your free time?’ you ask.

`Not yet,’ she grins. `I’m just going to see some ruins that are supposedly dated a couple of millennia back. They’re still trying to figure their age out. You’re not very into these things, are you?’ she tilts her head in an inappropriately cute manner.

`Not really,’ you laugh, feeling awkward. ` But I can see their appeal, I guess. Do you have someone to go with?’ Oh god, that was a stupid question. Of course she has someone to go with. Even if she hadn’t turned out to be a bit more communicative and open than Karkat had described her- a lot more, actually,- surely she wouldn’t be going alone, would she?

`Actualy, I’m going alone.’ Oh, okay. `Tavros would’ve loved to come, but unfortunately he can’t,’ she says, looking genuinely sad, but your brain picks up on the name faster than anything else. `Tavros is my friend from vet medicine,’ she explains.

`Does he happen to be the guy you were with at lunch today?’ you ask, baffled.

`Yes,’ she says, throwing you a quick glance. You think you can spot a hint of amusement in her eyes, but hey, she admitted to stalking you first! Kind of.`Is there something wrong?’

`It’s either that there are more guys with a freaky name like Tavros than I first thought, or your friend and one of my online teammates are the same person.`

`Oh, that’s great! Don’t you just love coincidences,’ she laughs. `I can introduce you to him, officially, if you’d like.’

`I think I can handle this, thanks,’ you say. You are not positive that you can handle this, even though Tavros always struck you like a really nice guy, and the frankly cute way he looks also seems to help. It’s just that you’re not very sure how likeable you are in real life, and keeping your internet friends apart from your real ones is a really convenient thing that you’d rather have kept. Oh, well.

`Apparently, I have a knack for meeting people with strange names. I still don’t know yours, by the way,’ she says.

`Sollux,’ you grin.

`Wow, as I was saying,’ she laughs. `Nice to meet you, Sollux. I’m Aradia.’

`I know.’ Oh, look, another lame, stalker-like thing to say. How great. `I mean… Karkat mentioned you today.’

`He did?’ she asks, curious. 

`Yeah.’ You aren’t very enthusiastic about telling her what you’ve found out, especially since you find it difficult to be true now that you’ve actually talked to her. She seems far from the gloomy, lifeless girl that your roommate described. Actually, she even seems different from how she was last evening, reserved and detached. What’s up with that?  
`We were talking about people we know here.’

`Oh.’ She doesn’t mention anything else, her gaze lost somewhere in the distance, and you hesitate a bit before deciding that damn it, you are not going to miss opportunities like an idiot again.

`I could come with you. If you want to,’ you say.

`Really?’ She looks at you, wide-eyed. Yeah, now that you said it, you can’t really believe yourself either.

`Sure, I could use some fresh air,’ you continue. You casually avoid mentioning that `fresh air` was never something that you felt like you particularly needed, and that this state of things has yet to be changed.

`That’s great! Thank you,’ she smiles. She seems genuinely excited; you hope she really is, you don’t want to impose yourself on anyone. Maybe she actually wanted to be alone. Should you take it back while you still can? `I like being alone, so you don’t need to come if you don’t really want to. But company is always welcome.’

`Just don’t let me get lost, being alone in a wild forest is not one of my top priorities right now,’ you say, making her laugh.

`I’ll try to slow down so I don’t lose you,’ she grins. After a short silence, she continues, `I should go back in, to. Um. Do things.’ Her slightly-embarrassed chuckle is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. `I guess I’ll see you around? To talk about the trip.’

`Sure,’ you say. `See you around. Good night and all.` The two of you end up going down the stairs together, though, and before she disappears inside the building she waves and smiles at you again. There’s a feeling of warmth in your chest, mixed with the nervousness that usually comes from talking to someone that you like. Not that it would happen too often- both the liking and the talking, but this time it all seemed to flow naturally. You briefly congratulate yourself for going through it without making too much of an asshole from yourself before your self-loathing kicks in again. Surprisingly, this time it doesn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

=> Sollux: Be nervous.

You are now nervous, but only a little bit, and certainly not enough to realize it at a conscious level. You’re supposed to meet Tavros for lunch. It’s the first time you’re meeting one of your online buddies in real life and while that’s an exciting thing, you are slightly worried that you will fuck up things by being your real self.

Aradia beams at you and you drag Karkat (after many loud, embarrassing protests) to her table, where you shake hands with Tavros. He looks as shy and faltering as he seems online, which is kind of cute. If things keep up, you expect him to lose his inhibition pretty soon- it’s what usually happens online, anyway.

`Wow, you sure, look just like I expected you to,’ he says.

`Wow, you sure talk just like you write,’ you reply, noticing the faltering manner of his speech. `Which one came first?’

`Haha, I got so used to it that, I don’t know anymore,’ he answers with a look of deep concentration on his face. `Anyway, it’s, pretty off-putting for most people,’

`Nah, don’t worry, it’s okay,’ you say casually. `I hate to get complaints for my lisp, too.’

`You have a lisp?’ Aradia jumps in, curious.

`Only when I’m nervous,’ you say, instantly regretting your slip of tongue. What a great way to shift the attention to yourself and your stupid speech impediment, good job, idiot.

`You shouldn’t, let them get you down, the complaints, I mean,’ Tavros says. `A speech impediment, is not enough to make your self-esteem go down, I think. In fact, I don’t think, anything is, not even, a physical disability like mine,’

`Tavros,’ Aradia interrupts softly, resting one hand on his shoulder. 

`Yes, I’m sorry, I got, carried away,’

You look at Karkat. His expression is unreadable, and while you’re pretty sure it’s impossible to hate this kid, some levels of dismay might be happening there. Between Aradia’s motherly attitude, which you find inappropriately charming, and Karkat’s deadpan, you’re pretty sure this is going to be all kinds of awkward.

`So, how’s vet medicine?’ you ask him, feeling weirdly grateful for your silly-ass friends.

 

=> Sollux: Be Aradia.

You cannot be Aradia. Aradia is too busy being herself right now.

=> Aradia: Be yourself.

That’s more like it. You are currently yourself, or so you like to believe even when you feel like disappearing into thin air. Right now is one of those moments. You are weightless, disconnected from your body, mind on auto-play as your feelings are numbed and your movements seem syncopated and dislodged. You do not feel much like yourself, and you keep repeating reassuring things in your mind so you won’t panic.

You are just coming home- well, to your new still-not-home- after four (admittedly very gripping) courses, and even though you wouldn’t normally feel tired, you feel drained and finally getting to your room feels like a huge relief. You really hope Vriska isn’t there, you don’t think you could stand any self-righteous bickering from her right now.

You open the door to find that of course she’s there; she’s in her underwear and a black T-shirt, with the volume to her game turned to maximum and the curtains shut. You wonder if she even opened the window today. By the smell of things, she probably didn’t. You sigh, pull the curtains over and breathe in the welcome fresh air.

`Hey,’ she shouts over the metallic sound of swords meeting. `Why’d you do that, I can’t see a thing!’

`The sun will go down soon and I’ll shut them again,’ you sigh, exasperated. You’re pretty sure she can find a spot in the room where the light doesn’t reflect on the screen, and you won’t sacrifice your precious sunshine for her lazy ass.

`Fiiiiiiiine,’ she sighs, turning the volume down. `Geez, I sure didn’t think you were so selfish, Aradia. But I guess a girl has to live with her disappointment when she expects the best of people.’

You feel too bad to be able to reply, but at least the noise pollution is down, so you just plop down your bed and try to think of nothing. You wish you were as lucky as Sollux was. To be honest, you’d much rather have Karkat as a roommate than the histrionic self-proclaimed over-achiever who spends all day playing and constantly pulls studying all-nighters. But you can live with it. You can live with most things, actually. It just doesn’t mean that they don’t break you down from time to time.

Your thoughts soon stray from impending doom to Sollux, who is frankly a much more pleasant subject for your daydreams, since the think-of-nothing trick doesn’t seem to work (you weren’t expecting it to). You’ve been seeing each other every day since you first met, which is exactly five days. Your first week of university. You’ve been getting better and better the entire summer and now you find it easier to interact with people and make yourself happy. It doesn’t compare to how you were before, of course. You don’t even remember those times. You used to be nostalgic about the time when you actually felt like a real person inhabiting her body and you could certify that the world is real without having to double check, but you know what they say. A mind stretched by new experiences can never go back to its old dimensions. Whatever this is, you’re going to learn from it. You are ready to feel alive again.

Well, right now, you are mostly just ready to turn on your laptop and rewatch The Ninth Gate for the third time this year. It’s not that you don’t like to watch new things, but if something’s caught your interest, it will not get rid of you until you’ve watched/read/listened to it at least half a dozen times. No one really understands this except one of your online friends, who seems to have the same weird fascination with the past as you. Actually, you hadn’t linked this fascination with your habit of re-watching the same piece many times until he pointed it out to you. 

You wonder if Sollux would like the movie. You wonder what types of movies he likes. You haven’t got him to tell you much about himself yet and you really hope you’ll manage to make him feel safe enough around you to stop being afraid of what ever he is afraid of and be sincere. On the other hand, that means that you will have to be sincere too, and this is something that you would like to postpone thinking about as long as possible.

`Wow, Johnny Depp sucks in this one,’ Vriska remarks, looking over your shoulder. `I don’t know how anyone can watch this drag without cringing or yawning their asses off.’

You grit your teeth and gracefully ignore her. 

=> Sollux: Go on an adventure.

Well, it’s not exactly an adventure, but that all depends on the operational definition of `adventure` that you’re using here. After all, you’ve never climbed a mountain before. 

`Really?’ Aradia looks at you in surprise. `How come?’

`Never had the opportunity, I guess,’ you shrug. `Plus it’s not exactly one of my interests.’ You say that last sentence without thinking too much, and your brain retaliates you for every word afterwards. Good job, you have successfully managed to sound like an asshole again!

`Yes, I figured that out,’ she laughs softly. Since you left the dorm, you have spent an absurd amount of time staring at her face. She tied her wild hair up in a ponytail and it’s much easier to notice her features now; the slightly sharp, yet still delicate angle of her jaw, her round cheekbones and the strong line of her nose. She’s dressed in sweatpants and a simple red T-shirt that brings her curves into focus, which is the other reason for which you spent a lot of time looking at her face. You feel like a stupid, hormone-driven teenager and that is not who you want to be with her. `I was thinking of school trips, maybe. We kind of had this class tradition where we climbed a different mountain every year. I got to travel a lot around the country because of that, since you don’t find that many different mountains in the same place,’ she laughs. 

`So that’s what got you started on your interest in digging up dead things from the ground? Your passion with traveling, I mean.’

`That was a part of it,’ she admits.`The other part was dozens of silly adventure movies, my curiosity for the past and my dad being in love with traveling.’

`Wow, you’ve got it all,’ you say. `I guess you’re interested in the practical side of archaeology, then.’

`Yup. I’d hate to be a researcher, as interesting as it may sound to some people.’

`It sounds pretty boring to me,’ you say.

`I know,’ she nods. `You find out new things, but I don’t think that’s enough for me. I feel like I need to discover them myself, experience things instead of living them second-hand. I guess I’m trying to beat that part of me that wants to stay in bed all day and do nothing relevant ever.’

`Good luck with that. If you find out how, tell me the secret.’ 

She giggles. `Would you really want to know? Some people are content staying in bed all day and doing the things they like. Even though they might not be relevant for anyone else.’

`So you’re calling me lazy,’ you taunt her.

`I don’t know that yet. Are you?’

`Totally,’ you grin. You’d feel guilty for it, but hey, playing all day is really fun and anyway, what are you about to do right now? Exactly, you are about to climb a mountain to see Important Ruins and have all your life energy drained out from you. You’re pretty sure this qualifies as a Not Lazy Thing To Do, and therefore absolves you of the accusation. Even though you are mostly doing it to be around Aradia. `But I’m cool with it.’

`That’s always a good thing,’ she observes. `So, what are your plans?’

`…surviving, I guess? I’m not asking for much. And stop being a shitty programmer.’

`Well, you’ve come to the right place for that, right?’ she smiles. `As for the survival part, I’ve heard college isn’t as bad as highschool.’

`It’s pretty okay until now,’ you agree. `Hadn’t expected it.’

`Me neither,’ she says and for a moment, her voice betrays the most sincere desolation you’ve heard. `I think it’s mostly because of the people I’ve met,’ she continues, bringing the smile back in her voice, but it doesn’t fool you anymore. `And this city, with its lovely places. You know the big cathedral in the central park? The highest place in the tower has this really nice balcony, and the guard said I can go there to read or study anytime I want. Too bad I’m still not getting along with heights.” 

`That’s… not the best thing for an aspiring traveler, is it?’ you say, hoping you don’t sound condescending.

`I know, I know,’ she nods. `I’m gonna get over it, I hope. I’m okay with natural settings, though, like mountains or valleys. It’s just man-made structures that I have problems with.’

You take the bus to the edge of the city, from where you’re supposed to start your climb. It’s a perfect day, comfortably chilly, yet with a sun that’s friendly enough to warm your faces as you take in the view of the speeding city from the front seats. Aradia tells you that she loves sitting in the front- it makes her feel like she’s the one driving, only without the responsibility. You remember that you used to sit as close as possible to the exit doors when you were claustrophobic, but you mention nothing of it. Right now, you’re just happy to be with her, even though insecurity is lurking in the back of your mind, warning you that she won’t stay around when she’ll really get to know you.

The bus drops you off right at the bottom of the hill, where a string of souvenir shops and boutiques welcome entertainment-deprived tourists and redirect their focus from sightseeing to stuff-buying. You never thought much of these kinds of things, to be honest, but Aradia is already running towards the place, wide-eyed and enthusiastic. If it were anyone else, you would’ve rolled your eyes and let yourself be dragged around with a modicum of agreeability. Now, however, you find yourself smiling at the sight of her excitement, and when you join her to look at… gemstones?, you realize that you are actually interested. Not because you’ve just discovered that you have a burning passion for crystals, but because you really want to find out about the things that she likes.

`I’ve never seen so many gems in one place,’ she says, looking at the exposition as if she didn’t know where to start, with the curiosity of an explorer. 

`Take your pick, miss,’ the merchant, a middle-aged man who looks surprisingly a lot like a normal person, offers. `But remember, you don’t choose the stone, the stone chooses you,’ he winks. Your eyebrows raise instinctively, but Aradia is just giving him this honest smile and for a moment, you feel like a complete asshole because how can this girl be so nice to everyone?

`Look,’ she says, pointing at an admittedly interesting oval-shaped pendant in ripples of brown and red. `Red jasper,’ she says, almost reverently. `I’ve never actually seen one before!’

`It’s a pretty common gem,’ the man jumps in. `In fact, it’s one of the oldest ever discovered.’

`Wow,’ Aradia says, throwing you a short glance, as if for confirmation. She looks like she just discovered a new continent or something, and you are absolutely loving it. `Hey Sollux, have you seen this?’ she asks, showing you a yellowish stone with what appears to be an insect encumbered inside it. `Is it real?’ she turns to the merchant.

`Completely real, fossilized Baltic amber, miss,’ he certifies. `It’s a rarity to find a piece that preserved a whole specimen like this one did, you gotta search for weeks on an end!’  
She smiles and turns back to the red jasper, mesmerized.

`It’s beautiful,’ she tells you, and you just stand there like an idiot for a few seconds until it hits you that you could actually do a Nice Thing and buy it for her. Wow, that took you a while, brain! 

`We’ll take this one,’ you tell the man, picking up the pendant and pulling out the money to pay for it. Your hand brushes to Aradia’s for the briefest of seconds, and she looks at you in surprise.

`You don’t need to do that,’ she says, careful worry painted on her features. `Oh, I hope you don’t think I was alluding to it or something…’ She buries her face in her hands, just like you did a few evenings before, and now it’s your turn to gently- well, more like awkwardly- uncover her face. 

`Hey, it’s no big deal,’ you say, offering her what you hope is a reassuring, albeit slightly insecure, smile. ’It’s my pleasure.’

`Thank you,’ she smiles back, looking as awkward as you are feeling. Then you remember what Karkat said about her being poor, and then the kitchen incident, and oh fuck you really hope she won’t think of this as an act of pity or something, because it definitely wasn’t, you were trying to do a nice and possibly romantic for someone you like and you wouldn’t want her to get the wrong impression, and the mere mention of the word `romantic’ in the context of your thoughts only serves to get you deeper into the Land of Blunders and Insecurities and- 

Luckily enough, she’s turned to admiring her new pendant while you were paying, so she didn’t get to see the whole debate going on in your head painted on your face in a probably very stupid way. You carefully remind your brain that you are busy being on a date (oh god, is it a date?) with a girl you really like, and that you just did a thing that was probably good and that you are probably reading too much into, and that it should really shut up and let you enjoy yourself.

`Will you help me with it?’ she asks, gathering her hair back and turning her back to you after she hands you the necklace. You can’t help but notice how rich and wild her hair is, or that she slightly brushed the nape of her neck with her left hand, or how soft the white skin there looks. You manage to stop staring in time to do what she asked you to, even though you keep being distracted by the way your hands are so close to her neck and by the temptation to touch that only makes you be more careful not to. When you’re done, you feel like the most difficult part of the day is done already, and you haven’t even started climbing the hill.

`Thanks,’ she smiles. `It’s really lovely.’

`It looks good on you,’ you say. There’s something about the brownish red of the stone that goes really well with her face and the hair and the whole of her, you suppose. Not that you know anything about fashion, but you can tell that the colour suits her. She gives you a small smile, but her expression is still unsure. Fuck. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this, maybe it was too early. Maybe she’ll take it as a sign that you’re interested in her romantically when she’d only want you as a friend. Stupid stupid-

`That amber was totally fake, though,’ she giggles, interrupting your train of thought, and you welcome the subject chance wholeheartedly. `My father brought me one from his travels when I was small, I could recognize a real one anytime.’

`Your father was an explorer?’ you ask curiously. You’ve escaped the colourful swarm of boutiques and now you’re going up the beaten road that leads to the top of the hill- it’s a weekend, so families with their children, friends and couples have invaded the place, and it’s a bit too noisy for your liking, but you hope you can find a quiet place when you get there.

`Unfortunately he wasn’t,’ she replies sadly. `It was his dream, but he ended up becoming a lawyer at his parents’ advice. Well, when I say advice…’ 

`That’s a bummer. I bet he would’ve been happy to see you where you are now,’ you say. `Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t…’

`It’s okay,’ she interrupts. `I think he would’ve been happy, too. He raised money until he could afford going to a place of his choice, usually at the other end of the world,’ she laughs, but it’s a bittersweet laugh. You’ve never met anyone else who lost their parents, but you suppose it’s something that stays with you along the years. `My mother wasn’t much of a traveler, so she stayed home with us. He took me to Nigeria once, when I was twelve, a few months before… it happened. I think that’s when I decided I wanted to become an archaeologist. We met a bunch of them in a forest, they were going to a nearby site, and I thought it must be amazing, seeing new places and searching for souvenirs from the past…Oh, I talk too much,’ she chuckles awkwardly.

`Not at all,’ you say, and you really mean it. `So I guess you still hold on to your childhood dream?’

`Not really. Now I know it’s a lot of work, it’s hardly as poetic as it sounds.’

`Like most jobs are,’ you shrug. `Except programming. There you know what you’re in for from the beginning.’

`I can’t tell if you mean that in a good way or a bad way,’ she laughs.

`Both,’ you laugh back. `You know there’s no adventure in sitting all day in front of a screen, at least not in the traditional sense, but it’s kind of understood that you didn’t expect that, anyway. But as long as you like it and you still have some room for innovating, I guess anything can be an adventure.’

`Look at us, talking about our future jobs one week into college,’ she smiles.

`We have no idea what we’re saying, do we,’ you add.

`You actually said something pretty meaningful back there,’ she winks at you.

`Yeah, sure. Meaningful’s not really my strong point,’ you brush it off, but you can’t stop smiling like an idiot because of that wink. You really hope you’re not blushing. 

`What is your strong point?’ she asks on that endearing tone that she uses when she plays her curiosity as an advantage. Combined with the way she smiles, it’s a killer.

`Computers. Maybe music. Not making it,’ you add, ‘even though I’m decent on drums. Just… listening and reviewing.’

`Oh, that’s great! Do you post your reviews anywhere?’

‘Yeah, I keep a blog. I can give you the link if you want to. I mean, if you’re interested. I’m not sure if you’re really into the music I listen to, though.’ Was that too direct? You’re pretty convinced that you’re right, though. You’re usually good at reading people’s musical preferences and she seems like the indie-folk type, maybe with some mainstream pop thrown in for when she’s feeling happy-go-lucky. But you also have a hunch that she’d like some of the darker experimental stuff you’re into. 

`Oh, I listen to everything,’ she says and it’s the kind of thing that you hear from everyone and that basically equals ‘I have no musical taste whatsoever except the one society forced upon me and I will cringe at the first conspicuous-sounding band that you will recommend me’, but you are oh so ready for her to prove you wrong. `I haven’t discovered anything I really like for a while, though, so I’m open to recommendations!’

You exchange chum handles and giggle like children at how similar- semantically speaking- they are, and you both race for the excuse of teenage bravado before admitting that you are still attached to your handles and don’t think they’re so bad after all. You can’t wait to talk to her online, too. Oh, you really have to check your blog for any stupidities that might’ve slipped in your otherwise pretty decent reviews- though maybe that’s not such a good idea. Knowing you, you might just erase everything.

After about ten minutes of climbing the mild, mostly treeless slope, the vegetation starts to diversify and in no time you are walking through a fully blown forest, the sun barely reaching through the dense crowns of the trees above. After a few exclamations of awe, Aradia keeps looking around in wonder, her face painted with quiet delight; you follow, taking in the fresh air, the buzzing of the insects, the bird songs and the silence that stretched between them. Most of the small crowd of tourists is ahead of you two now, since Aradia seems to be taking her time brushing the bark of the trees with her fingers, smelling the scarce wild flowers- she urges you to do the same and you are intoxicated with the scent-, or stopping to pick up and examine rocks that to you look just like all the others. You come to the temporary conclusion that forests aren’t such bad places after all, though you’re not sure how much of this conclusion is due to an actual liking towards them and how much is due to her presence here.

`Poison ivy,’ she tells you when you join her in looking at a woody shrub with yellowish-white berries. `It causes allergies in people, but many birds actually eat its fruit.’ She turns to you with an expression that merges sudden realization with worry. `I’m boring you, aren’t I.’

`You’re not boring me at all,’ you say. You mean it, because it’s honestly entertaining to watch her attention jump from plant to plant, like she wants to take everything in all at once. You’ve always loved seeing people who are passioned about what they’re doing. `So, what’s that?’ you ask, pointing towards a vine embracing one of the nearby trees.

`Oh, that’s poison oak. Surprisingly similar to ivy, actually!’ she reports cheerfully, and you follow her following explanation with genuine enthusiasm. Hey, who knows when some in-depth knowledge about forest vegetation might come in handy? 

By the time you reach the top of the hill, you’re breathing heavily and you’re pretty sure the temperature outside rose by a few degrees, but Aradia takes your hand and drags you to the tall ruins in the middle of the plateau and oh, your exhausted self feels like the distance until there is at least one more mile, but you don’t mind that much as long as there is that warm, comfortable point of contact between your hands. 

From the golden plaque at the entrance, which Aradia reads aloud to you and to a couple of old tourists- a sweet gesture that gives you a smug feeling that you immediately dismiss, like you’re proud of her and really proud that you are with her, right now- you find out that the ruins belong to the medieval castle that the old city was centered around, and that they date more than eight centuries back. You fail to be impressed and hover to the end of the plateau instead- a wide view of the entire town opens, the grey monotone of the buildings alternating with the green spots of vegetation, with mountains fading in the distance behind and the mild sun washing out the colours to a dull, pleasant glow.

`Better than our forth floor view, right?’ you remark when Aradia joins you.

`Definitely,’ she whispers. 

There’s a certain silence that settles in whenever you rise above the drone of daily routine, swarms of people running in circles in their self-created fantasy, and move to a space where your mind feels like it can be itself with no restraints. You know this because it only happened once- after a sleepless night of tossing and turning, trying to get some rest before a big exam, you gave up and went out and caught the sunrise in the cemetery at the outskirts of your hometown. It felt like you were standing above an empire that, dust or not, for a brief moment was yours. Now you’re engulfed by the same sensation, amplified by the way you meet Aradia’s gaze, her eyes as full of light as you’re feeling right now. You realize that you’re staring probably at the same time when she does, and you break the spell by averting your eyes and starting to think, a process that reaches the conclusion that you should be feeling awkward right now, which you immediately do. Well, fuck.

`So, we’re going in?’ you ask, motioning your head to the ruins.

`Sure,’ she smiles after the briefest of silences.

The place turns out to be tedious, just tattered remains of walls and the occasional tunnel or terrace, which Aradia seems very excited about. You wonder whether she’s genuinely excited about all the things that she’s excited about and how much of it is talking herself into being enthusiastic. But again, she does really love old things, so you guess this is understandable. After you finish touring the place, you settle down on a patch of soft grass from where you have the whole city at your feet. You lie down with a dramatic bump.

`I won’t lie, this was exhausting,’ you say.

`I’m pretty tired too,’ she says, lying down on her back beside you. Is this the moment when you start looking at patterns of clouds in the sky, or accidentally hold hands, or other equally sappy and, to be honest, pretty nice things that people usually do? `Did you have fun?’ she asks, turning her face to you.

`Yeah, I did. Still am, actually.’ You risk a brief glance in her direction; the way she looks at you makes you afraid to hold her gaze. Damn, this is so not the time to be a coward.

`Sollux, I…’ She sits up again and you mirror her. The sudden change in the air makes something heavy grab at your chest. `I’m sorry, I didn’t think things through. I’m afraid I can’t accept your gift.’ She makes a motion to take off the pendant and you experience a fleeting flash of panic. You screwed up. How did you screw up? You guess it really was too early to buy her something, or maybe she did take it as pity, or…

Oh.

That. 

You idiot, you started from the assumption that she wants to get close to you in the first place. But what if she doesn’t?After all, you’re the one who invited himself to come with her on this trip. What if she didn’t want you here in the first place and just accepted out of politeness?

The thought makes your heart sink and something bitter takes its place instead. It must be obvious on your face, because Aradia suddenly looks alarmed.

`No, it’s not what you think! Not that I know what you’re thinking.’ She shakes her head, smiling nervously. `I’m sorry. I really like you, Sollux, and if you hadn’t offered to join me here I would’ve proposed it myself. I wish I’d get to know you better. But I’m not sure you really want to know me. I’m… not the most fun person to be around.’

`Are you kidding me? You’re great at being fun,’ you say, then you realize that it sounded stupid. `I really enjoy your company.’ Great, now you said something that seems clipped from a tv commercial. But you guess it doesn’t matter, as long as it will fix things. You really hope it will fix things.

`I’m glad to hear that,’ she smiles, but it’s bittersweet and it makes you want to get behind her façade and get to know all of her, unmasked and unabridged, get inside her mind and wash away her fears. `It takes me a lot of effort, you know. Being happy and sociable and mustering enough interest for… anything. I’m not always like this and I don’t know for how long I’m gonna be able to keep it up, and I don’t want anyone else having to put up with how messed up I am. Especially you. You seem to have enough trouble to take care of.’

`If this is really it, and you’re not using it to cover up the fact that you never want to see me again, which I’d totally understand…’

`God no,’ she says. `I just don’t want to be an inconvenience. I shouldn’t have done this, I got swept away by the fact that I’ve been feeling a bit better lately, but this is not good, you don’t want to be around me-‘

`Of course I want to be around you.’ It feels strange, being the one who comforts someone else, trying to convince them that they’re worth it. It’s usually the other way around. You feel immensely responsible, like the weight of the world has fallen on your shoulders and its survival depends on you convincing Aradia that she is great, because you know very well how it is to feel alone and worthless. Damn it, you spend an absurd amount of time putting yourself down every day, and that’s when you aren’t even having an episode! `I should be the one telling you these things. I’m pretty sure that you can’t be more of a mess than I am. And even if, by some miracle of nature, you are, you still shouldn’t be the one to decide for the people around you. Those who care about you. Think about what you want. Do you really want me to stay away?’

She looks at you with pleading eyes, like the whole weight of the skies has shifted in her gaze. `Of course I don’t. But…’

`That’s enough,’ you say, resting your hand on top of hers. It’s as warm as the rest of her seems to be. Some part of your brain is currently going haywire with what you’ve just done, but that part is buried under the smooth surface of the current moment. She’s looking at you with a cautious tenderness, like she wants to take you apart and find out what you’re made of, and your head moves by its own accord towards her- you’re so close, you can count the freckles on her left cheek, feel her maroon eyes bear into you as there is less and less distance between you. Your heart is beating like rolling drums, but it’s overshadowed by the warmth in your chest,so you feel a pang of disappointment when she seems to change her mind in the last moment and rests her head on your shoulder instead, her face ending up half-buried in your neck. Oh. Oh. You decide that this is good enough. Hell, it’s perfect. But… you’re not quite sure you convinced her.

=> Aradia: Panic.

You cannot panic right now, because you had a small panic attack a few minutes ago, while you were walking among the ruins. Well, it wasn’t exactly a panic attack by the standards of it, but you don’t know how else to call it. Sometimes, the world seems to distance itself from you, like reality is rejecting your eyes and refusing to be perceived as it is. You constantly have the feeling that nothing is real, but in these moments the sensation is needle-sharp, narrowing your focus to the singular knowledge that the things around you don’t actually exist. You’ve been having these attacks for years and you still haven’t gotten over how terrifying they are, but you did learn to manage them better. Today, you recoiled from the feeling in only a few seconds and managed to act like nothing had happened, which, you assume, is a consequence of the efforts you’ve been making lately not to give up on your enthusiasm and will to be alive, however make-believe they seemed at the beginning of your journey. You are sure that Sollux didn’t notice anything and you are okay with this state of things.

So when the two of you are about to kiss, your panic has already surrendered, but to a dull pain instead of the happiness you were aiming for, because this isn’t right. If the two of you get closer, you won’t be able to hide who you are from him anymore, and he’ll either flee or stay and have to deal with your fucked up brain, both of which are unacceptable versions. You thought you could do this, you’d gone more than a month without any of these attacks, and you assumed you could carry on with your life as if nothing was wrong, but… It seems it isn’t that easy. Your emotional resilience is better, yes, but one day you are bound to fall into despair again and you don’t want him to see you like that. You don’t want anyone to see you like that.

You really wish you would kiss him, but it would only mess the two of you up further at this point- you rest your head on his shoulder instead, a silent thank you for his reassurance and encouragement. You have yet to meet someone who could read you so well. No, you don’t really want him to stay away. But following that wish would be selfish. The truth is, no one deserves you when you are at your worst, and especially now that he’s proven you that he is good enough to want to stay, it’s crucial that he doesn’t.

You just wish you would’ve been careful enough to stay away in the first place.

You don’t tell him any of this. You just squeeze his hand and do your best to breathe.

=> Sollux: Confront grumpy roommate.

Surprisingly, your roommate is not in the mood to be grumpy with you right now. He’s at his computer when you arrive and grunts something that you suppose replaces the way a normal person would greet an acquaintance, but proceeds to ignore you afterwards, entranced in some game he’s playing. That’s great, as far as you’re concerned.

`So how’d it go?’ he asks, taking his earplugs off right when you’re about to put on yours.   
Weirdly enough, he seems to be genuinely curious. Not that you trust him not to spontaneously burst in shouting sometime in the next five minutes.

`’t was okay,’ you shrug. Okay wasn’t what it was, you’d rather describe it as oscillating between stupidly amazing and awfully sad, things which by no way cancel each other out to average, rather accentuate each other to some awesome peak, but you’re not going to tell him that.

`It was ‘okay?’’ he asks, raising an eyebrow. `Okay as in it sucked or okay as in shut up and leave me alone, asshole? Because let me tell you, ‘okay’ is running for winner as the most ambiguous, useless answer you could give to someone and the number of meanings it can have is absolutely fucking astronomical-`

`Oh my god, will you shut up for once?’ you snap. `It was great, okay? It went great,’ you repeat, then you realize you totally sounded insecure just there. `It’s none of your business anyway,’ you add on a milder tone.

He opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind in the last moment. `Fine. Whatever. So how is she?’

You stare at him, trying to figure out what he means, while he stares at you, waiting for an answer, then you realized what he asked and wow, you swear, this guy.

`What the fuck, Karkat, we didn’t-` 

`Oh my god.’ He raises his hands to the skies in a dramatic gesture. `Calm down, you god-forsaken pervert, I meant how is she feeling!`

`Oh.’ Besides embarrassed, for a few seconds you’re left speechless. Does he really care about her? He’s probably just asking to be polite. But again, he was never one for politeness, was he? `She’s doing better than what you told me, she seems happy… Doesn’t fit your description at all, actually.’

`Huh, go figure,’ he says, looking surprised. `Any reason for the sudden change?’

`I guess she decided not to let whatever was wrong trouble her anymore,’ you say. You’re not sure how much you should tell him. To be honest, you wouldn’t tell him anything at all, but there are these moments when his face goes all honest and preoccupied and it convinces you that behind all the noisy charade, he actually cares, and it’s hard not to give in to that feeling even though you know it’s going to backfire later in the form of obnoxious pestering. And, perhaps, in the responsibility of forming some kind of connection with another human being. Yeah, you’re pretty scared of that too. 

`Well it was about time,’ he says, but it’s with friendly concern rather than bitterness. `So, you’re gonna see her again?’

`We haven’t established anything yet, but I hope so,’ you answer. You’re pretty sure you will, actually, and it’s not in your nature to be optimistic about relationships with other people. It’s different with her; you’ve clicked since you first met and this somehow manages to tame your usual self-doubt to an agreeable level. After the Serious Discussion, you returned to lighter subjects and neither of you mentioned anything about anyone’s insecurities again. You parted with a ‘See you soon’, at which she responded with a nod and a smile, and you were left floating somewhere between the floor and the ceiling in a (metaphorically, mind you) blissful haze.

`Me too,’ Karkat says before putting his earplugs back on. `It’d do both of you good.’

You’re left staring at his back, in lack of anything else to say. You guess that by this point, it’s safe to assume that he cares- which is frankly a bit terrifying and you can’t even tell why.

You go to sleep feeling happier than you’ve felt in months.


End file.
